Pretending to sleep with my eyes open.
Life is over but I’m not dead.
[video]
(Source: oxane, via thegameofart)
My friend,
if it turns out I don’t know you,
if it turns out you are no one at all,
then i forgive you in advance for the pleasure of your absence.
I wanted to be everything, but instead I became a person.
My parents went to earth and all I got was this stupid body bag.
Here kid, you know what to do with it,
just hop right in and play dead.
(Source: vintagegal, via muscavomitoria)
Have I said it already? I am learning to see. Yes, I’m beginning. It is still going badly.
-Rilke, The Notebooks of Malte Laurids Brigge, trans. by Burton Pike
(Source: mythologyofblue)
(Source: yama-bato, via tweedarms)
“I sat on a gray stone bench
ringed with the ingenue faces
of pink and white impatiens
and placed my grief
in the mouth of language,
the only thing that would grieve with me.”
— Lisel Mueller, from “When I Am Asked” (via proustitute)
[video]
“
Instead of arms to hold you
I want longer limbs, vines,
to wrap you twofold, threefold.
I wrap you, I pick you up, I carry you,
your knees drawn up, your head bent,
your arms crossed on your breast.
You are heavy.
I walk, I walk.
You say nothing.
Onward. Hill and dale. Indoors.
Out again. You say nothing.
You grow smaller, I wrap you fourfold.
I show you all the wonders you showed me,
infinitesimal and immense.
You grow smaller, smaller,
and always heavier. Why will you not speak?
(Source: fragmentsshoredagainstmyruin, via tweedarms)